


A Cure for Madness

by Midnaighte



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, F/M, Khajiit - Freeform, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8358151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnaighte/pseuds/Midnaighte





	

Morndas, 13th of Frostfall, 4E 200

"Are you alright?" an unfamiliar voice spoke. Runa's right ear twitched as she lifted her head, her vision still blurred from having been unconscious. As the mid morning sun hit her eyes, she squinted and looked around curiously only to suddenly realise that she was in the back of a carriage. She felt a dull throbbing pain in her head and reached to touch her forehead, but the bindings around her wrists kept her arms close to the roughspun prisoner's tunic that had been placed on her. With a quiet sigh, Runa hung her head and clenched her teeth as she waited for the pain to subside.

"So you're finally awake." the voice spoke again. She lifted her head and gave a questioning glance to the blonde-haired Nord sitting across from her. "You walked into that ambush, didn't you?" he asked. "You and that horse thief." He gestured, with a nod, to the dark-haired Nord next to him.

Runa glanced at the other man who had then started rambling on about how the Stormcloaks are to blame for the current state of Skyrim and for the war. After finishing his ramblings, he turned to her. "You and I have no business being here with these Stormcloak traitors.." he began. Having no interest in sympathising with him, Runa turned her head away and watched the trees and the small bit of wildlife that had been visible from where she sat as the small caravan of wagons slowly traveled up the old mountain road. Soon enough, they began approaching a small town.

"Helgen.." the blonde Nord across from her spoke up again after a brief moment of quiet. The wagons pulled to a stop near one of the buildings and the other prisoners began stepping off. Runa followed their lead and did the same. The female Imperial captain at the front barked out the orders, and her subordinates obeyed.

One by one, the names were called and the prisoners lined up. That is, all but the horse thieving Nord Runa had shared the wagon with. As his name was called, he protested, shouting about not being a rebel and tried to run. The archers caught him in the back with an arrow. "Idiot." Runa thought to herself. "But a helpful one." She then used the brief moment of distraction as her chance to slip away. The confused and outraged voices of the Imperial soldiers rose up behind her as they realised that she was gone. She didn't look back. 

With the use of her claws, Runa was able to cut the bindings that held her wrists to the tunic, allowing for free movement of her arms. However, her wrists remained bound together. 

As she ran, a loud roar echoed through the skies and screams suddenly filled the air. She paused and looked back to find a large black dragon burning Helgen to the ground. She took a few steps back, then turned and hastily ran through the forest. 

Several hours later, Runa finally arrived at the gates of Riften. One of the guards approached, then crossed his arms as he looked her over. After a brief moment of silent examination, the man spoke bluntly.

"And just where are you escaping from, cat?"

"Does it matter?" She raised a brow as her tail flicked impatiently, her ears pulling back slightly. The guard tapped the head of his axe as he thought for a moment.

"For the right price, I suppose it wouldn't." Judging from his tone, she knew he was likely smirking under his helmet. He crossed his arms again.

Her ears flattened as she narrowed her eyes. "Typical." She thought to herself. "Perhaps I should have you take it up with Brynjolf instead." She hissed.

The guard uncrossed his arms and took a step back, realizing his mistake as she uttered the familiar name. "Oh, it's you! ..Alright, go on through." He opened the gate for her, and she entered the city. Making it a point to avoid crowds and the market area, she quickly made her way to the small graveyard. She listened intently for any signs of unwanted company as she approached the false crypt, her ears twitching and searching for even the slightest sound. Once satisfied that no one else was approaching the graveyard, she opened the crypt and made her way into the Ragged Flaggon.

"Brynjolf?" Runa called as she entered the Cistern. 

"Shor's beard.. what happened to ya, lass?" Brynjolf asked as he walked up to her and cut the bindings from her wrists.

"Well.." She began as she rubbed her sore wrists. "I was on my way back from a job in Dawnstar and got caught in an Imperial ambush near Darkwater Crossing. But some horse thief they caught ended up making a big fuss when his name was called, so I used the opportunity to sneak away."

Brynjolf nodded thoughtfully. "That was lucky. Anything happens to you, we'll need to find a new Guild Master."

Runa laughed. "If anything happens to me, I want either you or Karliah to lead the Guild. I won't have anyone else taking my place. And that's an order."

Brynjolf sighed and shook his head, then grinned as he replied in a sarcastic tone. "Yes, Guild Master." After that, he took his leave and she walked over to the chest in front of the bed she had taken to using whenever she would stay at the Guild. She pulled out the fur armor that she'd looted from a bandit she killed soon after arriving in Skyrim and changed into it; however, due to her digitigrade stance, she never bothered with shoes.

After changing into her armor, she pulled out a knapsack filled with various potions and preserved food, then a quiver of glass arrows and the bow that Karliah had given her, two ebony daggers, and her tavern clothes. She closed the chest, placed her tavern clothes into the knapsack, and fastened the weapons in place, then exited the Cistern and went through the ratway to the docks beneath the town. Sitting on the docks was a young Breton in tattered clothing.

"Sam, what are you doing down here?" Runa walked over and knelt down next to him.

"Old Grelod wasn't paying attention, so I snuck out.. I hate it there. The old crone is so mean.." He looked sadly up at her with his big brown eyes as a frown tugged at the sides of his mouth. She sighed and placed her hand on his head.

"I know little one. But you know she'll be even worse if she realises you snuck out." The boy hugged his knees.

"I know.. but I just had to get out of there.. you aren't gonna make me go back, are you?"

"Of course not. Come on, let's play a game before the old lady comes looking for you." She smiled as she stood and helped him to his feet, then covered her eyes and began counting, listening carefully as the boy ran off. Before she finished, a loud yell caught her attention. She bolted up the stairs to the streets and saw Old Grelod dragging Sam into the orphanage by his ear and cursing at him about being an 'ungrateful rat'. 

Her ears flattened and she harshly clenched her fangs. She had always despised the old crone for the way she treated the children at the orphanage. But to do so blatantly in the open? Runa was done with tolerating it.

She quietly walked into the orphanage a moment after Grelod dragged Sam inside and from the first room she could see the old hagraven looking for something in the small bedroom that was connected to the dining room. It seemed that she hadn't done anything to the boy yet and Runa couldn't see him from where she stood.

Runa crouched down as she pulled out her bow and drew back an arrow. A clear shot with no one else in sight. Perfect. She released the arrow and it eagerly flew forth and caught the stubborn hag in her ribs. With a shrill cry, she crumpled to the floor and bled out. Before anyone had the chance to realise what happened, Runa quickly left the building and made her way to the opposite side of town and exited through the gate. Her faithful black mare, Shade, had finally made her way back and was standing in front of the stables. 

She rooted through the saddle bag and pulled out a few papers and looked them over. After a short moment, she then placed the papers back in the bag, hopped up onto the saddle, and took off. She still had some extra jobs to take care of for the Guild. More than enough to keep herself out of town till the guards gave up looking for whoever killed Grelod. Though, certainly, no one would miss the wicked old witch.

Middas, 15th of Frostfall, 4E 200

With daylight gone, Runa sprawled out on her stomach next to the small campfire she'd made a few yards off the road. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Shade made herself comfortable next to a nearby pine tree. A tired sigh slipped past Runa's lips as she rolled over to her back and watched the auroras dance beneath the full moons with the subtle sounds of night and the calming flow of the river filling her ears and slowly lulling her to sleep.

A loud neigh from Shade suddenly startled her awake. 

"I'm up!" She shouted as she jumped to her feet and frantically looked around, her fur standing on end. 

Upon realizing what had happened, she glanced at the horse curiously.

"Shade, what in Oblivion did you--" She paused. Her ears twitched as she listened closely. "A horse?" She thought to herself as the sound of voices shouting soon followed. The fur at the back of her neck pricked up.

Shade snorted. 

Runa hastily grabbed her weapons and went to investigate, keeping herself hidden amongst the trees that dotted the roadside. With her ears perked up and listening intently, she followed the sounds of clashing metal and found a small group of bandits attempting to raid a carriage and a man, who she could only assume was the carriage driver, trying to fight them off. Two were already lying dead on the ground. An arrow suddenly caught the man in the shoulder. He stumbled back as a shrill cry of pain escaped his throat. Though, remarkably, he continued to fight and began laughing like a lunatic. 

Runa grabbed her bow and pulled back one of her glass arrows as she used her keen night vision to look for the source of the attack. Her ears twitched as she heard the creak of a wooden bow and her eyes shot to the direction it had come from. Another bandit was hiding amongst the trees only a few yards away from her, but hadn't spotted her in the darkness. She quickly took aim, then released her grip and caught the fur-clad nord in his neck. He let out a gargled yell as the blood filled his throat, drowning him. One bandit frantically looked around and another went to investigate while the third was abruptly cut down by the carriage driver. Runa sunk her dagger into the skull of the second one as he unknowingly passed by her, killing him almost instantly. 

Another painful yelp came from the man as he took a hit to the ribs from the female bandit's iron mace and staggered back. She was about to strike him again as Runa quickly launched an arrow into her arm, causing enough delay for the man to finish the bandit woman off.

With the bandits dead, Runa sheathed her weapon and walked over to the carriage as the driver put away his dagger and began humming while approaching his horse.

She stopped a few feet away so as not to approach too quickly. On closer inspection, she noticed that he was wearing a jester's garb, which was slightly tattered and covered in dirt and blood stains from his still-bleeding wounds. A strange scent caught her attention and she eyed the arrow in his left shoulder. She started to suspect that it had been poisoned.

After a moment of silent observation, Runa finally spoke up. "Are you okay?"

The jester whirled around as he unsheathed his dagger, narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of her and eyeing her carefully.

Runa jumped back a bit and threw her hands out defensively. "Easy!" She gasped in alarm, then took a deep breath and spoke more calmly. "I'm just here to help."

He lowered his dagger a bit, but never loosened his grip. "And why does this kindly stranger wish to help poor Cicero, hm? Think I'm an easy target, do you?" He accused, his voice hard and edgy as he added sarcastic emphasis over the word 'kindly'.

"If I wanted to steal from you or kill you, don't you think I would've done so instead of asking if you were okay?" She pointed out as a concerned frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her muscles relaxed into a submissive demeanor, her tail flicking from one side to the other good-naturedly as she spoke.

"I suppose you have a point." He admitted, sheathing his dagger as he turned away dismissively. "Thankyou for your concern, but I don't have the time. I must get Mother to her new cr--" A wave of pain cut him off as he suddenly cringed and held his shoulder. Runa approached and moved his hand from his shoulder.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to do much of anything in this condition. Especially considering this arrow is most likely poisoned. I have supplies back at my camp. It's not far from here." She coaxed. He looked at her with a thoughtful expression, as if weighing his options. "Look," She spoke up again. "if you don't let me help you, your wounds will only get worse and that poison will kill you. You don't want that, do you?"

With a defeated sigh, the jester agreed and allowed her to lead him back to her camp.

"By the way." Runa spoke up as she helped him over to the fire to sit down, leaving his horse and cart only a few feet away. "Earlier you mentioned the name 'Cicero'. Is that your name? Or.." She trailed off, leaving her sentence unfinished while she unhitched the tired palomino-colored horse from the cart so he could walk freely. The man nodded.

"Cicero is Cicero." He replied. She thought to ask him why he mentioned himself in third person, but decided against it. It could wait for another time. 

In the light of the fire, she noticed his skin was unusually pale. His face was lean and his cheeks where somewhat sunken. His red hair was tangled and matted and he had large dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. By all accounts, he looked as though he had just crawled out of a hole somewhere. Runa couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor man.

"Clearly too small and lean to be a Nord." She thought to herself as she searched through the various potions in her knapsack. "Maybe a Breton?" She glanced over after pulling out a vial of red liquid. "Or perhaps an Imperial?" Setting her bag down, she mentally shrugged it off. It wasn't important, just a mild curiosity. She popped the cork from the mouth of the vial as she returned to her place next to him and held it out. "This should help with the poison."

Cicero looked at the vial, then at Runa, clearly still unsure of her intent. 

"It's not poison if that's what you're thinking." Runa stated just before swallowing a sip of the potion, then held it out to him again. "See? Now drink."

Without taking his eyes off of her, he took the vial and hesitantly drank its contents. Meanwhile, Runa began soaking a cloth in the river, then warmed it over the fire. Her ears twitched as she heard a low growl, which she assumed was his stomach. 

She gave him a curious glance, then shook her head, dismissing the thought. She knelt by his side and grabbed the arrow's shaft just beneath the head. "I'm gonna need you to hold still. And I won't lie, it'll hurt. But I need you to try and bear with it."

The jester nodded and took a deep breath, then braced himself while Runa began to break the arrow. He winced and gritted his teeth as the shaft snapped.

"Almost done." She assured him. He took another breath and braced himself once more, then let out a painful yell as Runa began pulling out the remainder of the arrow. After a long excruciating moment, she managed to remove it. Cicero held his gloved hand over the wound and cringed. 

Runa picked up the cloth again. "I need you to remove your shirt so I can clean the wound."

A loud burst of laughter unexpectedly escaped Cicero's throat, causing Runa's fur to stand on end and her ears to lie back. His voice lowered to a suggestive alto as he spoke up.

"So this is why you insisted on helping poor Cicero, hm?" he smirked deviously and raised a brow.

Runa's cheeks burned red and her tail twitched nervously as she paused a moment and looked at him, replying playfully. "No, you silly fool." She laughed. "I can't see your wounds or tend to them through your clothes, nothing more." Cicero's voice changed back to his usual soprano tone as he laughed again.

"The twitch in your tail suggests otherwise!"

"Behave yourself." She scolded half-heartedly. "Now remove your shirt so I can clean your wounds. Unless you'd rather leave them be and risk infection." She raised a brow.

"Oh, very well then. The kindly stranger wins again." Cicero mocked as he complied.

"Blade." She corrected. He turned to her questioningly. "Everyone calls me 'Blade.'" She clarified. During her first few months in Skyrim, it had been a false name she offered to those she was unsure of; although, as time went on she started preferring it over her true name. 

However, in truth, she was trying to cut any ties she had with her past due to night terrors of nameless faces she was almost certain she'd seen before. The screaming. The burning inferno. The mere thought of it was enough to make her tremble in fear.

"Blade?" Cicero gave her a quizzical glance as he reached out and touched her shoulder. Runa suddenly tensed as she let out a startled gasp, her tail stiffened and bristled slightly. She noticed a slight frown as she turned her attention to him with a confused expression. But before he could ask, she shook her head.

"Just thinking is all. Nothing to worry about." She stated as she began inspecting his wounds.

The bleeding from the wound on his ribs had clotted some on its own, however, the poison from the arrow that had struck his shoulder had already started to take effect. Part of the wound was discolored and, upon closer inspection, she noted that he was rather thin.

Cicero watched her closely as she began cleaning and healing his wounds. Her bright blue eyes were illuminated by the light of the fire and her jet black markings stood out in contrast to her snowy white fur, which was given a slightly orange tint from the flames. He noted her relaxed and gentle demeanor and how she hummed softly as she worked. Her tail swayed calmly to the tune she was humming. 

A small wave of pain here and there caused him to wince; however, he found himself distracted somehow. Something about this stranger seemed familiar, but he couldn't think of what it was. Though, for all he knew, he could have been imagining it.

Once satisfied with her work, Runa got up and began cooking some salted meat from her food pack over the fire. While she waited, she reached over and pulled out an apple, then, just to prove a point, took a bite from it before holding it out to Cicero. "Here. This should hold you over till the meat's done." She grinned.

Cicero let out another burst of laughter and took the apple. "Clever!" He mused. "I think we're going to be fast friends."

By the time he was finished eating, Cicero could barely hold his eyes open. It didn't surprise her. It seemed that they both had a long day. Runa got up and pulled an extra sleeping fur she had for the colder parts of Skyrim from one of the saddlebags, then laid it down on the ground near the sleepy jester so he could use it as a pillow. She then reclaimed her place from earlier, sprawled out next to the fire, then curled up and slept lightly, awakening every now and then to check on the strange man she had saved.


End file.
